


The Valkyrie Queen of New Asgard

by retrat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 06:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrat/pseuds/retrat
Summary: Brunhilde has been queen in everything but name for almost six years now. She led the survivors of Thanos' attack to Midgard, she built New Asgard, and she rode into battle when the call was put out once again. So why is she still so unsure of her place? And how is she going to deal with all the troubles that leading a small nation state comes with?





	The Valkyrie Queen of New Asgard

        “Will you make judgements based in truth, equity, and mercy?”

        “With all my heart.”

        “Will you defend the Æsir, a people born of strife, from all threats within and without?”

        “With all my might.”

        “Will you serve the interests of the Æsir above all else, with vigor and pride?”

        “For all my life.”

        “Then I pronounce you Brunhilde, the Valkyrie Queen of New Asgard!  Long may you reign!”

        “Long may she reign!” The final retort came from the crowd, hundreds of faces cheering for her: some she’d grown to know well over the past five years, and some she hadn’t seen since those few short weeks aboard the _Statesmen._ Some faces were absent, and those were the ones that loomed over her. It had been her decision to take up arms against Thanos when the Masters of Magic came calling, and the Asgardians who fell to his forces were ultimately her responsibility. She may have just been crowned Queen, but she’d long since been their leader. So the fact that some of her people--who had survived Ragnorak, Thanos and his children’s attack, the Decimation, and then perhaps the most brutal part of things, picking up the pieces—had died in that battle felt like a cruel irony.

        And fuck, she really missed some of them.

        The officiator placed the golden crown on her head, not the ancient crown she’d once sworn to protect, but a newly forged one made of Midgardian gold. Still, it was just as beautiful as any Asgardian piece, a far cry from her days as a Scrapper. Back then, the closest thing she had to a crown was a Kronan pauldron she’d once plopped on her head. The Kronan hadn’t been using it anyway.

        She stood from the kneeling position she’d been in, not minding it much because of the Valkyrie armor she still bore. It was one thing she refused to give up, her status as the last of her kind. Even if she were ascending to the throne, she would not disrespect her—Hildegarde. She would not disrespect Hildegarde’s sacrifice. She was a Valkyrie for life. Even if she’d forgotten that for a time.

        Swirling her cape, she turned around and sat down on the steel throne that had been brought out into the town square. It had been made from the remnants of the _Statesmen_ escape pods—Asgardians loved their reminders. The square was decked with ropes of wildflowers, gathered from the cliffs surrounding the town. It was packed to the brim with cheering Asgardians, both civilians and hastily trained Einherjar. Before Ragnarok they had all been civilians, but about three years ago she’d managed to get Thor to pull himself together enough to authorize a defense program. A hundred guardsmen, largely fishers and dockworkers who went to training on the weekends. It was the best she could manage with her limited manpower, but they’d performed admirably. In the haste of preparations though, many people who didn’t even have that training got the idiot idea to take up arms and follow them through the portals.

        It was largely those people who she now mourned.

        She breathed out through her nose heavily, trying once more to rid herself of those depressing thoughts. This wasn’t for her, this ceremony was for her people. A celebration and a memorial beyond the barges they’d set aflame last week. A new start for them, reunited with family and friends long thought lost.

        Well, time for her speech. She rapped the hilt of her sword against the arm of throne, once, twice, three times, and by the last blow the courtyard was silent.

        “Friends! People of New Asgard! Survivors, warriors, proud and victorious people!” She paused and looked out at the crowd. All of them hung in anticipation, waiting for what she would say. Waiting for a murdering drunkard’s word. In the back of the crowd, for a moment she imagined Thor standing there, waiting as well. But no, he’d left. Fled the planet, probably the galactic arm by now, gallivanting across the galaxy with Rocket. It was just her now. Left to lead her people. Not like she hadn’t been doing just that for the past five years anyway. Hmm. They were still waiting.

        “What are you standing there for? We just killed Thanos! Let’s eat!”

        In her heart, Brunhilde was still a Valkyrie, still a soldier. And if there’s one thing soldiers knew how to do; it was how to throw a killer post-battle party.

 

* * *

 

        A couple hours later, long before things would start to wind down but when she wasn’t expected to be schmoozing every second, she took the time to flop down on a fishing crate and pull out her flask. The thing was old, older than any living Midgardian. It was scratched and dinged and rusty several spots, and anything that went into it came out with a subtle aftertaste. It had been the first of the Grandmaster’s gifts, a paltry thing from when she was still a fighter in his rings. She had no idea why she kept it all these years.

        She took a swig.

        “Now there’s a familiar picture,” came a voice from off to the side. She looked up and saw Hulk—or rather, Bruce now. Standing there in a sweater vest and glasses. Ridiculous, that the former Grand Champion would need such petty accessories. Probably just kept them for familiarities sake. “How ya doing Val?”

        “Oh, I’m doing well. I’m royalty now, did you hear?” She grinned at him and patted the ground next her. He sat down, and she took advantage of the height difference to lean on his shoulder. “Queen of the people I swore to protect. The people I abandoned.”

        “You’re not still guilty about that?” Bruce said, shifting so he could look at her. “These people are only alive because of you. They all would have died on Asgard if it weren’t for you.”

        “If it weren’t for Thor, you mean. And now he’s gone. I suppose it doesn’t matter; not like he was ever much help around here anyways. Did you know he and his friends took up a quarter of our bandwidth playing that stupid game with all the dances?” Beneath her, Bruce chuckled and she had to fight not to fall off his shoulder.

        “And you’re not bitter about it at all.”

        “Oh, no. Not at all. Really though, I am passed it. There have been moments when I resented Thor, but he lost a lot in a very short span of time. His home, his family, his eye. Even his revenge fell hollow. At least now he’s out doing something. I just wish he’d have left someone else in charge.”

        “You don’t really wish that, do you?”

        Brunhilde looked around at the party. The sun had set sometime earlier, and the streets were now lit with lights interwoven into the flower garlands that crossed the town. People were dressed in their finest clothes, some in reproduced Asgardian fashions, some in Midgardian outfits. All of them were laughing and dancing, twirling around each other and enjoying the celebration. She watched one couple, an Æsir man with blonde braids and a man of Vanir descent with a thin black beard, struggling to hold each other up from the effects of the drink and their own giggling. They kissed each other lightly, or at least they tried to. They ended up smacking their foreheads together and laughing even harder.

        “No. I’m happy with my job here, if it means that I can help them have moments like that.”


End file.
